Have Time to Panic?
Usual disclaimers: I don't own "Hogan's Heroes" and I'm not making money off of this.
This was written for the "3rd Hogan's Heroes Short-Story Speed-Writing Competition"
The object of the game: To write a story, within the time allotted, by using one of the seven lines provided as your starting line.
A full-grown man in the grip of uncontrolled panic is not a pleasant sight. He stumbles around full of anxiety. Completely forgetting how to think positive. Others around him wonder what just happened to him and try to stay away. They get scared by what they see, but the look in his eyes is probably the most terrifying to those watching. They're full of pure fear and seemly wild. For a moment those watching don't recognize him and he doesn't identify anyone or anything in turn. Almost all of them had all seen it before. Thankfully they didn't have to worry about that now. After all, who would panic doing what they were doing? Not counting the complete amateurs, which by this time they were not. This little group of five men thought of themselves as professionals, or perhaps semi-professionals in this case. They had each worked hard to earn that title and they were going to use the smarts that they had learned to do what they had to. The whole plan was simple really, if you had to lie just do it for all that you were worth and hope that you wouldn't get caught. Getting caught meant paying a price and a rather high one at that. Even for the most honest man there, lying to the other side was as normal as the sky is blue. Regrettably, it was something that could land them into more trouble than they started with. They'd forget what they lied about in the first place and completely mess up their "story". Not like they didn't have enough open cans of worms to begin with.
"...Five, six, seven" Kinch counted out, then sat back.
"Wow, that's a lot!' the demolition man exclaimed loudly in surprise.
"Shh! Carter, do ya want 'em to 'ear?" Newkirk hissed a warning.
"No. Boy, then we'd be in big trouble" Carter replied, this time in a lower voice.
LeBeau, the Frenchman, rolled his eyes heavenward, but didn't say a word.
"Kinch, you said seven?" Newkirk asked, although it wasn't really a question. "Well, 'ere's eight."
"Are you sure?" Kinch asked, almost suspiciously.
Newkirk became exasperated. "Of course I'm jolly well sure. 'Ere's eight."
Before the discussion could go any further, Colonel Hogan noted that it was getting to be time for roll call. There were a few muted groans because they didn't want to leave. After a bit of prodding and the thought of having to deal with one of Klink's long speeches later, they all left.
The next night was about the same. Doing whatever they had to and not much more than that. Each of them had watchful eyes and ears, trying to catch what the others hadn't. For some reason, this time they were all a bit wired and had a hard time keeping quiet.
"Sorry I'm late" Hogan said, dashing into his office and zipping up his jacket. "Did I miss anything?"
"Nothing yet mon Colonel. Just the usual" LeBeau replied from his place at the table.
"This is getting to be too much" Kinch sighed suddenly, after a few minutes.
The others stared at him in shock. Their radio man never gave up that easily. He was the strong, silent type who could take just about anything. This was a first.
"You can't give up! This is the only thing we can do. This is our mission!" Newkirk said incredulously.
Now it was his turn to be gaped at. Sure he grumbled and complained but that was all show. He might not admit it, but he rather enjoyed everything that went on, well as much as one can when you live in a prisoner of war camp. Him giving everyone a pep talk was very unusual, not to mention stunning.
"Wot? It ain't like we 'ave anything else to do."
It was true that this was their only goal that they had right now, albeit one of the stranger ones that they'd had. But when a bunch of men get desperate, they come up with peculiar things.
They had a saying, although it was hardly ever said or well known outside of their barracks, or even in their barracks for that matter. "If London puts you on hold; Do something quick before you mold." They were a bit tipsy when they came up with that and it sort of stuck. Their recent so-called mission was to create a new game out of junk found around the Stalag. Half of the camp was broken up into about a dozen teams and had decided that the contest was only going to last for four days. The five of them didn't have much time left to come up with anything.
"What do we have that we can use?" Hogan asked them on the third evening. They wanted to try something other than their Poker variation that they had been working on earlier, so that morning and afternoon they had gathering things.
Carter dragged out their box that stored all of the odds and ends that they had found and dropped it onto the table with a thud. "That's all of the leftovers that LeBeau and I could find. The other guys took most of the good stuff", he informed them.
They stared at the contents for a few silent moments. The pickings had been pretty slim. There were a few different partial decks of playing cards, a decent amount of them torn in half. A couple of Monopoly tokens, and a handful of puzzle pieces that were all that remained of what was once a puzzle. The only upside was that Kinch and Newkirk had found some blocks of wood that could be used as a game board.
"Who came up with this idea again?" LeBeau asked, frowning at what he saw in the box.
"It was a popular vote" Kinch replied.
"Maybe we should just stick to wot we've been doing," Newkirk suggested almost hopefully. He looked up at his friends to see their reaction. He was at a loss on what to do. "It's ain't like we'll be the only ones who won't finish, right?"
The next morning in the mess hall, the participating men stood around anxiously.
"Well, it looks like nobody could come up with anything" Hogan commented ruefully, and shook his head. "Congratulations everyone, it's a tie."
The crowd chuckled and then dispersed, except for the Colonel and his main team.
"That was interesting" Kinch said with a grin.
"Now don't look at me like that" Newkirk pleaded his mates.
"Why not?" Carter and LeBeau replied at the same time, pretending to be innocent.
"'Ow was I suppose to know that they wouldn't finish?" Newkirk asked them.
Baker popped in, interrupting their conversation, and told his CO that London had an assignment for them. Each man in the group immediately had an eager look in their eyes. There was only so long they could go without a job and this was just what they had been needing. After all, who would have time to panic when they were about to do what they were going to do?